Hermerella
by outtatune
Summary: Aiming to one day write for The Daily Prophet, Hermione is forced to work long hours as a maid. One day a charming man walks into her life and Hermione begins to believe happy endings may exist. OliverHermione.


**Author's Note:**   
Hello! I am re-posting the beginnings of this story in hopes that it shall either spark interest amongst some new readers or hopefully renew interest in older readers, who would have yes, read this before. As always, I appreciate reviews and feedback to let me know whether this story is being enjoyed and I should continue working on it. Please do let me know what you think!

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**Chapter One... 'Always the Dreamer'**

Life hadn't always been tough for Hermione. Gracious no. She'd been Head Girl at Hogwarts, aced all of her classes and everybody expected her to go on to greater things. But Hermione had a dream and that dream was to one day produce amazing stories and articles for the Daily Prophet. In order to do that however, she was told she had to start small. Small for Hermione was cleaning the toilets at the Daily Prophet Offices and doing their filing, making cups of coffee and running errands for the "real" reporters.  
  
It was a life Hermione hated. Yes, she hated it with a passion. But her constant drive for success and that constant dream of one day writing proper things kept her motivated. The only problem with what she was doing (besides from being a long, tiring and boring job) was that she didn't get paid. It was the only way she could ever get a foot in the door and because of that, the Daily Prophet _knew_ she needed the work and therefore refused to offer her a salary. Poor Hermione was stuck there.

But a girl has to live. She needs to be clothed and fed and the only way Hermione could get paid was to have another job. A second job. Hermione's other job was working as a house maid for the Nicholson family. She didn't mind the Nicholson family at all- in fact most of them were pleasant, nice people, but she despised the two daughters. And the two daughters despised Hermione.

The first daughter's name was Annabella. Annabella was pretty and blonde, but one nasty little witch. She hated Hermione for only one reason... Hermione was clever. Now Annabella had attended Hogwarts too but had never done very well in classes. It wasn't that she didn't try, it was just that she didn't have the mind that Hermione had. What Annabella lacked in brains, she made up for in brawn. She spent hours in the bathroom each morning, primming herself and making sure she looked perfect for when visitors (mainly boys) came around.

The other sister was not so harsh. In fact, if you'd taken her away from the influential Annabella, she was rather friendly. Christina wasn't the pretty thing her sister was, she was plump with dark brown curls that cascaded down her back. Christina was cute yes, but just not as charming as her older sister. Sometimes when Annabella spilt things deliberately for Hermione to clean up, Christina would offer words of support under her breath. Though Hermione was grateful for the small gestures of kindness Christina showed, they were never enough for her to actually like the sisters.

The parents of Annabella and Christina were lovely. Thomas and Anita both worked full-time so they were never around to witness the cruel acts their daughters sometimes committed. They thought of their children as angels... perfect little angels who were always polite, always friendly and always thoughtful towards others... how wrong they were.

"Hermerella, Hermerella!" cried Annabella one day. "I accidentally spilt this nasty raspberry sauce on the carpet. Do clean it up please," she laughed wickedly.

"Hermerella is right," agreed Christina though her heart wasn't in it.

Annabella laughed again. "Yes, but in this fairytale there will be no Prince Charming to rescue her!" With that, she turned around and strutted out of the dining room and up the stairs, still laughing to herself.

Hermione, turning red with anger, muttered some nasty words under her breath before finding a damp cloth and beginning to mop up what Annabella had spilt.

"Why don't you just use magic?" asked Christina, a lot gentler now Annabella was gone.

"Because your prat of a sister hid my wand!" Hermione exclaimed, too mad to look up from the floor.

"Oh," Christina's face fell. "Uhh... I'll look in her room for it later if you want?" she offered.

Hermione sighed and nodded. "Thanks Christina, that would be lovely."

Hermione spent the rest of the day cleaning up after the mess Annabella loved creating for her. She mopped, swept, brushed and washed everything until even Annabella gave up. Without the aid of her magic wand, Hermione was forced to do everything by hand and when it came time for her to go home, she was sore and tired from using every muscle in her arms and shoulders.

"Goodbye Hermerella!" said Annabella from upstairs, sarcastically baiting her. Hermione didn't reply.

Christina appeared out of the kitchen, an apple and an envelope in her hand. "Uhh... see you later Hermione," she said holding a them out to her. "Hope your writing is going okay."

Hermione gratefully accepted the items and closed the door behind her.

Once she was outside and walking home, she took a bite of the red apple and opened the envelope. Inside was her usual disappointing pay but also something long, wrapped in tissue paper. She unrolled the wrapping and found her magic wand inside, cleaned and polished. She smiled at Christina's thoughtfulness and wished she'd just find the courage to stand up to her bully of an older sister.

Happy to be able to clean her own home with the use of magic, Hermione quickened her step and arrived home earlier than usual.

"Hullo Rorry," she said as she leant against the closed front door. Her pet owl, 'Rorry' swooped down on her arm and pecked at her fingers affectionately. With a quick flick of the wrist and a few enchanting words, Hermione's small one-bedroom flat was cleaned and sparkling.

"Oh, that was so much easier," she said with glee and sat down at her dimly lit wooden desk after pouring herself an apple juice. "Time to write," she added as Rorry sat down next to her, ready to watch.

Hermione sat there for the next few hours, writing sheets and sheets of parchment. When she wasn't satisfied with her work she threw it in the old raffia woven basket behind her. The daylight was fading and after awhile night time set in, meaning Hermione had to light the old lamp next to her. But the light bulb was broken.

"Lumos," she said and rested the wand in front of her.

As the clock struck twelve, Hermione realised she needed to sleep. She had another frantic day ahead of her, more work at the Daily Prophet Office and then an afternoon shift at the Nicholson's. Apparently they were expecting guests so Hermione had to act as a maid, cook and waitress the next night. It was going to be long and probably very boring, something she was certainly not looking forward to.

She put the ink lid back on the bottle and sleepily trudged into the bedroom. She didn't even bother changing out of her working clothes and as soon as her head hit the old, lumpy pillow she fell right asleep and spent the night dreaming that Prince Charming _would_ come to save her and that he _would_ rescue her from a life with Annabella.


End file.
